


Skin as Soft as Bruise-Blue Silk

by aBarlowRose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Denial, Dom Castiel, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting, Silk - Freeform, Simultaneous Orgasm, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 21:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBarlowRose/pseuds/aBarlowRose
Summary: Dean's a little tied up. Cas plays boss.





	Skin as Soft as Bruise-Blue Silk

Dean’s breath hisses through his teeth as he tugs half-heartedly against the silk sashes tying his wrists to either side of the headboard. Cas is sitting next to the naked Dean, fully clothed and grinning. He holds one palm millimeters above the skin of Dean’s stomach, letting the heat radiate into Dean’s flesh. He ghosts his fingers over Dean’s chest, pinching cheekily at each nipple before dragging a knuckle ever so lightly down the ridges of his abdominals. Dean shivers and hisses again.

He holds as still a possible, knowing any unsolicited movement on his part will mean that Cas stands and leaves him shivering and unsatisfied, tied to the bed and fully exposed. Dean’s eyes flutter and follow the lines of the hand, the well muscled arm in black button up shirt, up to the shoulder and neck, and finally to Cas’s face. His cheeks are unshaven, his eyes glinting in the half-light and lips parted ever so slightly— but Cas’s breathing is even.

Dean watches Cas’s tongue trace over his lips, and Dean’s breath is the one to hitch, muscles trembling as he feels the heat of Cas’s palm circling lower and lower across his body. Fingers drag along the outside of Dean’s thighs, dip toward the tender skin between his legs, recede again. He bites back a whine. Cas glanced quickly at Dean and smiles to himself in satisfaction at the wide-blown pupils and glazed expression of concentration on Dean’s face.

Cas can feel the tension rising from Dean’s body, and cocks his head in delight as a bead of pre-cum appears at the tip of Dean’s penis, now fully erect. Cas chuckles and Dean huffs in annoyance and exhaustion. He can’t keep this up much longer. Cas’s teasing hands make him want to scream. Suddenly, Cas speaks, his voice rumbling from low in his chest. “You’re having some difficulty tonight, I see, Dean. Would you like me to touch you already?” Dean knows it’s a trick question.

He bites his lip and sucks in a deep breath through his nose, trying to focus on the radiator noise, the pock marks in the ceiling tiles, anything but the fingers playing along his skin. Again, Cas’s voice comes through his haze. “I said,  _do you want me to touch you already?_ ” Dean’s fingers are wrapped around the sashes that tie his wrists, and he uses the little leverage he has to pull himself toward the top of the bed, shaking his head slightly. “No? That’s strange.”

Cas removes his hands, clasping them chastely in his lap. His gaze, however, tells a different story. Dean can see the hunger in them, the urgency, and a moan escapes unbidden from his chest. He freezes, eyes wide and searching Cas’s face for any reaction. A tiny smile flickers at the corner of Cas’s mouth and is gone. Dean watches as Cas stands smugly, and walks toward the door. His heart sinks as he hears the latch close, and an aching feeling gnaws at his ribs.

His cock is still quivering proudly, and Dean grimaces at the visual reminder of his predicament. He lets his head fall back all the way to the pillow, his eyes squeezed shut, willing himself to relax. A noise at the door snaps him back to full attention. He peers over toward the silhouette against the light and cannot repress an all-out gasp. He recognizes that body anywhere, clothed with a massive trench coat or a well-fitted suit— or completely bare, as it is now.

Cas walks confidently toward Dean, lazily stroking himself. When he comes to the bed, Dean’s eyes rake across his body as he wishes his hands could, coming to rest on Cas’s hips as the dark-haired man easily straddles Dean’s legs, giving him an excellent view of his busy hands. Dean licks his lips, his chest heaving— he notes with small satisfaction the Cas’s breathing has increased as well. Cas does not sit back on his thighs but keeps his legs extended so that he towers over Dean.

Ever so slowly, Dean shifts his right leg, watching intently for any change in Cas’s face, any sign that Dean will be punished for his insubordination. He sees the flick of Cas’s eyes as he feels Dean stir beneath him, but the dark-haired man says nothing. Dean bends his knee in painfully small increments, drawing his foot back towards himself so that his knee rises higher and higher. Triumphantly, he feels his thigh come in contact with the hot skin of Cas’s crotch and notes a tiny jump as he increases the pressure. Dean does not slacken, but holds very still, watching as Cas continues his work, eyes grown dark and glistening.

After some minutes, Dean twists his body a fraction, trying to increase the friction on his own cock even the tiniest bit, but one of Cas’s hands presses firmly against his hip, a silent but gentle reminder to stay still. Dean settles back, head still raised in distraction by the performance of Cas’s hands, knuckles slightly whitening at each stroke. With a start, Dean feels Cas begin to rub slowly against his raised leg, rutting himself against fiery skin, breathing heavily now. The speed of his hand increases.

A groan from somewhere deep inside Dean escapes unbidden as he watches the rough pulls Cas makes on his cock. Cas barks out a breathless laugh and leans forward, placing feathery kisses across Dean’s chest and shoulders, his neck, his jaw, and finally capturing his lips urgently, needing Dean’s taste on his tongue.

Cas’s hand, still pumping his cock, is now positioned above Dean’s own throbbing dick, and an occasional graze of the knuckles prompts a tiny buck from Dean’s hips. Cas’s nips at Dean’s pulse point before whispering in his ear, “You like that, do you? I suppose you’ve earned it.” Without missing his rhythm, Cas repositions his hand to wrap around Dean’s cock as well as his own. His tongue traces down Dean’s neck to the hollows of his clavicles, and Dean groans into the top of Cas’s head.

The pressure is perfect, the heat nearly unbearable, and Dean’s moan turns to whimpers as Cas traces his thumb over Dean’s slit, then his own. Dean can feel Cas shudder into his leg, and with the clenching of muscles, knows Cas is close. Finally, Dean finds his voice. “Cas,” he pleads, tugging suggestively at one of his restraints. Cas drags his eyes up from Dean’s lips to his hand and nods shakily. His free hand leaves Dean’s hip just long enough to unknot one of the silk sashes before it returns, fingers digging in for support.

Dean’s wrist is numb and bruised, but he wastes no time. He moves his free hand first to Cas’s head, using his hair to pull Cas down for a kiss, then continues down. Lacing his fingers with Cas’s own working knuckles, Dean and Cas work their cocks together, slicked with enough pre-cum and spit to keep the friction pleasurable. Cas is gasping into Dean’s mouth now, hunched over, hips still rutting erratically against Dean’s thigh.

When Cas stops moving for a split second, Dean knows what’s happening, and with a last, fierce kiss and a moan of his name, Dean leads their hands in a final twist, letting his thumb drag across Cas’s slit. Cas shudders, letting out a muffled shout into Dean’s shoulder, biting down a bit harder than he means to as he comes across both of their stomachs. The sharp, not-unpleasant pain of Cas’s teeth and the sound of Cas’s cry are enough for Dean to follow. He can feel the tension that had built in his body release itself, pumping cum over their hands and into the small, hot space between their chests.

Cas is slumping into Dean’s arms, and his head comes to rest in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. They lay in silence, regaining their breath and listening to each other’s hearts slow before Cas grabs the box of tissues they keep near the bed and cleans up first Dean, then himself. He smiles sweetly then, and presses a gentle kiss to Dean’s forehead before snuggling down to place his head on Dean’s chest. Dean smiles. Then, remembering his other wrist, Dean reaches his free arm over to loosen the silk. A firm hand stops him. “Ah ah ah. I don’t think so,” Cas says with a wink of his eye. “I might have plans for you yet.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the same as Three Feet Thick but less grungy. I do love Cas in a black button up. Damn, that angel is a stone cold killer.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please comment any tw/cw tags you'd like to see applied.


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